Still Pack
by ToriScribbles
Summary: After everything, the pack try to get back to normal and reaffirm their pack bond, starting with a movie night. They discover that after everything they've seen and been through; horror movies aren't so easy to stomach anymore.


_So, I've been going through some of my old fics and I decided to post this. I wrote it before season 4 aired so it doesn't fit with that timeline. This is set sometime after the 3b finale, Malia is a part of the pack and knows who her family is, Scott isn't an Alpha and Isaac never left._

* * *

Stiles mentally cursed himself as his breath caught in his throat and his blood rushed through his ears.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. The pack gathering together for a movie night, finally bonding, finally healing. They'd ordered two dozen pizzas and let Kira's Netflix list play through. The first two movies had been fine, a light-hearted chick-flick and a hilariously unrealistic action movie. But it was half an hour into the third movie that things had started to go downhill.

At first, Stiles tried to ignore his stomach twisted, the flash of memories that weren't really his that raced through his mind. And then he couldn't ignore it.

On the screen, there was a teenaged girl who had been possessed by a vengeful spirit, causing carnage in all the characters lives. As it, she drove the knife into her best friend's chest, another girl on screen screamed and Stiles felt as if the world was tipping.

Allison and Aiden's faces flashed in front of Stiles' eyes, Lydia's scream ringing in his ears.

He—

He can't—

He couldn't breathe.

"Stiles?" At the sound of Stiles erratic heartbeat, Peter looked over at him in concern. "Stiles?" he said again, a little sharper than before, drawing the attention of the rest of the pack.

"He's having a panic attack," Scott said, a hint of urgency in his voice as he shot out of his seat, dropping down next to his best friend.

Lydia's eyes scanned the room, looking for the trigger before they came to rest on the television. She mentally cursed at their idiocy, reaching for the remote. "It's the movie," she said, shutting it off.

Stiles choked on air and he shot forwards, retching and coughing as his body forced the pizza back up. The searing pain in his stomach seemed to bring him back to reality, and the pain settled into burning humiliation.

Shocked by what had just happened, nobody moved for several minutes as Stiles caught his breath.

Silently, Peter rose from his seat, stepping around the vomit, he ignored Stiles startled flinch and set his hand on the teenager's shoulder. Taking his arm, he gently pulled him to his feet, guiding him across the room, and into the bathroom, pushing Stiles to sit on top of the closed toilet seat.

"It's alright," he murmured, filling up a glass that had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, with cold water. Crouching down in front of the boy, he pressed the glass into Stiles' hands. "Here, drink this," he instructed. Steadying Stiles' shaking hands, waiting patiently as he took small sips.

Once Stiles shook his head, pushing the glass away, silent tears of embarrassment streaming down his face. Peter stood up, setting the glass on the counter by the sink, he turned on the shower. Turning back to Stiles, he helped him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed softly.

Letting go of him, Peter lay a fresh towel on the rack before stepping away with a soft, "Get cleaned up."

"W-why—" Stiles words failed him as he looked up at the elder wolf.

Peter looked back at him, one hand resting on the door handle; he sighed.

"You're might be a human, but that doesn't mean that you're not pack," he said, "and we take care of pack." With that, Peter stepped out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

He hesitated, waiting for a minute until he heard Stiles start to move and the sound of the shower changed before heading back towards the living room, where the sharp scent of disinfectant hit his senses.

"Is he alright?" Malia asked, appearing in front of her father worriedly, not really understanding what had happened.

"He's in the shower, he's fine," he assured her gently, his hand resting on her arm reassuringly.

While he had been gone, the floor had been cleaned up and Isaac and Kira were putting cleaning products back in the cupboard across the room.

"I've never seen Stiles have a panic attack like that before," Scott admitted softly, worry for his friend clear in his voice.

"He's still remembering what happened," Derek said, moving to join them with a pile of clothes in his hands. "It's to be expected."

"But still…" Isaac said, his voice small and scared.

Derek reached towards his beta, running a hand through his blond curls before squeezing his shoulder gently. "I know," he murmured.

They all stood there for several minutes, mulling over the events of the last few months, a heavy silence hanging in the air.

Across the loft, the shower shut off with a low groan of the old plumbing. Derek squeezed Isaac's shoulder again before pulling his hand away, moving silently towards the bathroom, knocking on the door gently.

"Who is it?" Stiles asked, his voice hoarse and broken.

"It's Derek," he called out, loud enough for the human to hear. "I've got some clothes for you."

Derek heard Stiles take two deep breaths before the lock clicked, his head peering around the cracked door. Stiles' eyes were red and puffy from where he'd been crying, and as he reached out to take the clothes his hands were still shaking violently.

"Thanks," he said, so quiet it was barely audible to even the werewolf's hearing.

Derek inclined his head slightly and Stiles drew back into the bathroom, closing the door again. He pulled on the sweat pants, rolling the waist band over, letting them hang low on his hips, before pulling on the oversized t-shirt. He hung the towel back up, knowing that he would have to face the pack sooner or later, he opened the door, stopping short in surprise at the sight of Derek still standing there.

The Alpha's eyes scanned the anxious teen and Stiles shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the floor.

"I'm not waiting for an apology," Derek said and Stiles' head shot up in confusion. "Are you okay?"

Surprise flickered across Stiles' face, like that was the last thing he expected to Derek to say, but he shrugged anyway.

Derek sighed, that was a no then.

"Stiles," he said after a moment, choosing his words carefully. "You know, that nobody blames you for what happened. For Allison. For Aidan. For any of it. You know that, right?"

Stiles stared at him with unblinking glassy eyes for several, long minutes, before turning his head away, looking back down at the floor.

Guilt and shame rolled off of Stiles in strong waves and Derek sighed again.

Instead of commenting, he just walked back down the corridor, turning into his bedroom where the rest of the pack were waiting, bickering amongst themselves as they tried to pick out a new film. Stiles stepped into the room behind Derek and the room fell silent making both Peter and Derek roll their eyes and if it had been any other time, Stiles would have laughed.

The tension snapped as Malia launched herself across the room, hugging a startled Stiles tightly.

"Can't… breathe…. Malia," he wheezed, and she let go instantly with a worried expression. "I'm fine," he assured her gently, getting a small smile in response. She took his hand, tugging him over to the bed, all but making him lay down. Once he was settled she crawled up next to him, curling into his side.

Derek slid onto the bed the other side of him, his arm slung above Stiles' head, resting in Malia's hair. Peter settled down behind his daughter, and she reached behind her, joining her hand with his, letting them rest on her waist.

Lydia snatched a DVD from Scott's hand, putting it into the player and starting it up as Scott and Kira curled up together at the end of the bed, their heads resting on Stiles and Derek's legs.

Derek looked over at Isaac, who, as always, was hovering next to the bed uncertain of his place. Derek caught his eye and patted the spot on the bed next to him. Isaac's lips twitched in the slightest of smiles before crawling up next to Derek, resting his head over his Alpha's heart.

Lydia finished setting up the movie and as the opening credits started, she closed the door, flicked off the lights and settled down around Isaac and Derek, so that her head was on the pillows, above everybody else's, resting on Derek's arm and her legs rested against Isaac's back.

Stiles' breath caught in his throat as he realised what movie Lydia had chosen.

 _Brave._

A tale about a fierce young girl, who had a particular talent for archery and refused to be defined by any man. Who defied her parents' wishes and made new, better, family values.

It was Allison's favourite movie.

Sensing his discomfort, Derek moved his hand from Malia's hair to the side of Stiles' neck and Lydia reached out, combing her fingers through Stiles' hair in gentle movements.

"It's okay," she whispered, fulling aware that everybody could hear what she was saying. "We forgive you."

We forgive you.

We forgive you.

 _We forgive you._

The words hung in the air and Stiles felt the crushing weight on his chest start to ease. He took a shuddering breath and something between a broken whimper and a sob tore through his throat.

Derek's arm around him tightened, turning him into his chest.

Instinctively the pack all shuffled closer to him, and Stiles let himself sink into their warmth, taking comfort in the people around him. For the first time since Oak Creek, since the Nogitsune, since… everything, he started to let it all go.

His sobs started to die down and he turned his face from Derek's chest to watch as Merida started to shoot for her own life.

Stiles smiled groggily at the soft sounds of seven people breathing steadily around him

 _Peter was right._ He thought to himself with a slight shudder. _Even if I am human. Even though everything that happened, happened; they're still family. Still pack._

* * *

 _Feedback is always appreciated._


End file.
